Empty Brilliance
Empty Brilliance
An opulent glow, yet hollow and frail,
A gilded crown, but devoid of the trail.
Lustrous mirage in the desert of mind,
A beacon that leads yet fails to bind.
The shroud of allure, delicate, worn,
Conceals the void where essence is torn.
Vibrance profound, yet utterly bare,
A labyrinth's maze that leads to nowhere.
Resplendent in form, but devoid of weight,
The gloss of success—so exquisite, so late.
It hums in the silence, soft and refined,
But never resounds, never realigns.
It dances like pearls in a lover’s soft hand,
But fades with a touch, like castles of sand.
Gilded with praise, adorned in the best,
But fractured within, no substance to invest.
A cadence that strikes but fails to resound,
A myth in the making that never is found.
The brilliance, they say, is born of the mind,
Yet in absence of truth, what’s left behind?
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